


Family Tree

by agentofvalue



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 15:50:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11039352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentofvalue/pseuds/agentofvalue
Summary: Steve wakes in a brave new world and meets a family he never thought he would have.Written for Steggy Week Day 04 (Tuesday): Modern Day#steggyweek2k17





	Family Tree

There were raised voices in the hall, but even Steve's sharp ears couldn't pick up the words. The tone seemed more frustrated than angry or fearful, but it definitely has something to do with him. He wasn't sure if they had cleared the entire building, but he was the only person in the medical wing. Not that they had let him leave his room or his bed.

They had found him twenty-eight days ago, pulled him from the ice, thawed his ass, and yesterday he had woken up in the twenty-first century.

He hadn't seen a single familiar face. Though he doubted after seventy years there were any familiar faces left.

Every couple of hours some doctors or scientists or S.S.R.—wait—S.H.I.E.L.D. agent came to poke or prod or examine or questioned him.

He had already gone over the last things he remembered a hundred times. He had only left out his last conversation and, since he had thought he'd been taking those words to his grave, he wasn't about to spill now.

Maybe someone had found out he'd held something back? But everyone had been treating him such kid gloves. It was all ‘please’ and ‘thank you so much’ and 'Do you mind, Captain?' He doubted anymore could get mad at him.

Maybe something was wrong?

The voices had stopped and were replaced by footsteps.

He sat up straighter in his hospital bed and set down the book about current events he had been pretending to read. He coiled his body to be ready for whatever might be coming.

There was a sharp knock at the door and he was there ready when it opened before he could even respond.

A woman burst into the room followed closely by two of the large suited men that had probably been patrolling the corridor. She stopped short, and they almost crashed into her.

She was a tall, with brunette hair, and clearly not supposed to be there. Yet, she gave off an air of being in charge that had somehow confused the other agents. They knew she wasn't supposed to be there, but they also hadn't stopped her.

She was pretty but trying to downplay it. In the right circumstances, he guessed she would be stunning, but she was dressed plainly. She wore a dark suit and her hair was pulled out of the way in a low ponytail sitting on one shoulder.

She stared at Steve so intently he felt exposed, stripped bare under that gaze. He locked onto her wide, dark eyes and neither looked away.

"Uh, what's happening?" Steve said.

"I had to see...you,” the woman said.

"Sorry, sir," said one of the suits. "We tried to stop her."

"But she has clearance," said the other.

“I’m Elizabeth." She didn't elaborate.

"Steve. Steve Rogers," Steve said.

"Oh, I know."

"I guess the whole world knows," he said. “Can I help you with something?” 

"I...know an old friend of yours."

Know was present tense—someone was still alive.

"Ma'am, this isn't the time," said an agent.

He grabbed Elizabeth's arm to pull her away, and she broke eye contact with Steve for the first time. Elizabeth wrenched out of his grip with a fighter’s grace before Steve could demand the man let her go. Steve saw her feet shift into a firmer stance. She was just as ready as he was.

"Why don't you leave us to talk?" Elizabeth said, but it wasn't actually a question until she looked back to Steve. "If that's alright with Captain Rogers, of course."

Steve squared his shoulders and will all the dignity a man wearing nothing more than a hospital gown could muster, he waved the guards away. "We'll be fine."

They grumbled but left Elizabeth and Steve alone. She shut the door behind her as soon as they were gone.

“That’s better,” Elizabeth said, “some privacy.”

She didn’t move from her place by the door though.

A sense of foreboding settled over Steve. She was still staring at him. If this was some kind of personal call, he suddenly he didn’t really want to know what kind of news she had brought him.

“Would you like to sit down?” Steve asked because, despite his apprehension, he was still a gentleman.

“Thank you, Captain,” she said at last stepping forward and settling herself in the uncomfortable chair by his bed all the other visitors had used.

“You can call me Steve,” he said. He was so tired of people treating him so delicately. “And you can also tell me exactly who you are.”

She took a moment before speaking like she was making a decision. “I’m Agent Elizabeth Carter. I’m also known by the codename Union Jack.”

His mouth fell open. The Carter surname and Elizabeth was Peggy's middle name. The woman had an American accent so the very British codename must relate somehow too.

He hadn’t considered the descendants of the people he had known yet. It was an oversight. Just because he hadn't been able to get married, have kids, didn’t mean there was any reason that anyone else couldn’t have. He’d died—they’d gone on with their lives.

Peggy had kept going because the woman sitting in front of him had to be her granddaughter. Great granddaughter? And she’d followed in Peggy’s footsteps. She had to be so proud.

“God, Peggy? I take it you’re related,” he said as if he was just remembering Peggy, as if he hadn’t been thinking of her constantly since he’d opened his eyes.

Elizabeth nodded.

“How is she? If she’s still…” he asked.

“Alive? Yes. She’s doing well enough for a lady her age. She can’t be on her own anymore, but she’s in a nice place back in England. I’m there once a month at least.”

“I’m glad to hear it—I’d like to see her.”

“I’m sure she’d like that, too. But you see why I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Not really.”

“She’s been talking so much about you in the past week. I was just with her—I came straight from the airport. So much is coming out about that time—stuff she hasn’t ever talked about before. I needed to hear it from you. She had to keep it all quiet for security, but I think also to save herself from the scandal. She had already fought through so much. Imagine if everyone knew the rest. I’m sure some of them knew, actually, but turned a blind eye. Stark and Phillips, I mean. They helped after all.”

Steve had to hold up a hand to stop her babbling. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about. Help Peggy with what?”

“Founding S.H.I.E.L.D., turning the Reserves into all _this_.” She waved a hand around the room but meaning the facility as a whole.

He’d already heard a few of all the things Director Carter had accomplished, but he hadn’t realized Peggy had been a founder. He should’ve known given it was called S.H.I.E.L.D. Who else would’ve called it that? The name was a mouthful.

Then, Elizabeth said something that really shocked Steve. Nothing else had so far. He had been numb to every new revelation, every new piece of technology, every wonder. He had, until now, accepted his lumps without comment. Them's the breaks.

“And with a baby and they had to know she never actually got married,” Elizabeth continued. “Although, I didn’t even know until about a week ago.”

She kept talking, but Steve didn’t hear anything else she said.

“Stop!” he said again loudly. “Just give me a minute.”

Elizabeth stood up suddenly, nearly knocking over the chair. “You didn’t know.”

“I still don’t know!”

“Oh God, you didn’t know! I thought you knew—I thought she would’ve told you at the time. It’s been hard to get all the details out her. She won’t confirm anything—so many years of secrets. She uses the old lady card and pretends to fall asleep. There are still big chunks missing.”

“Tell me what you know. Now.”

She straightened her shoulders and spoke as if she was giving a briefing. “My grandmother, Peggy Carter, gave birth to a son a few months after the end of World War II. She led her family to believe she had impulsively married a man while on leave and then he was killed in action. She raised her son on her own while creating one of the greatest intelligence agencies in the world.” She took a gulp of air. “So, is it true?”

“So, is what true? Nothing you told me is up for debate."

He was reeling like the world had turned upside down. Again.

“It’s true you’re my, um, grandfather.”

His mind was getting there. Piece by piece he would have got there. Connect the dots. One plus one had to equal two. There were a million other cliches. He would have got there.

Peggy had a baby. Peggy had a baby in 1945. Steve had been with Peggy in 1945. Steve had a son. Peggy was Elizabeth's grandmother. Steve had a granddaughter. A granddaughter who looked as if she was the same age as him.

He stared down at his hands in his lap. "Yeah, I think it has to be true," he said.

Elizabeth dropped back in her chair and her shoulder slumped. She had known the facts but she hadn't believed it. It had changed everything she had known about her history. It changed what Steve had known about himself.

"Oh Dad," Elizabeth said to herself and then she looked up. "I tried to do research once. I thought I could do a project, meet some other relatives. She doesn’t like to talk about it, but she always said she'd named Dad after his father. I only had the first name because she kept the name Carter, so I never found anything.”

“She named him Steve?”

"Grant actually. Grant Michael Carter.”

“Grant is my middle name."

"Yes, I know that now. Though Howard Stark apparently called him Stevie when he was a little boy and no one ever explained why. He grew up right in the middle of it. He knew more classified secrets by ten than most people knew in a lifetime."

Some part of his brain registered the charming anecdote, but he couldn’t react. He was still putting all the piece together.

“I should've been there,” Steve said.

“She did alright on her own—don’t worry. My dad’s, well, the greatest.”

“I still should’ve been there. For her. For my—my son. Does he know about me? Does she know I’m alive?”

“I don’t know about your first question. He’s never mentioned anything to me, but there are a lot of secrets in my family. He still won't talk about it. Gran knows you’re alive, but we might have to reminder her. Her short-term memory isn’t what it used to be. She’ll remember you though—don’t worry.”

He didn’t know what to say next. He was still upside down. Elizabeth didn’t seem to mind because she’d gone back to staring.

“What?” he said.

“I’m just floored I never noticed before. My dad looks just like you.”

“Do you have any pictures?”

“Shit! Yeah, I do. I took some just to show you.”

She whipped out a device from a pocket and fiddled with it. Someone had told him they were phones, but he didn’t understand how. She passed over it. The image on the screen was a picture of a picture. He could see the edges of the frame. 

Peggy standing front of a Christmas tree and baby wrapped blanket in her arms. The kid couldn’t care less about what was going on, but Peggy was laughing. She was the same woman he remembered. Except she was in civilian clothing and he never really pictured out of uniform. Or with a baby. 

“My dad’s first Christmas,” said Elizabeth. “He was only a few weeks old, so I guess he pretty much looks like every baby.” She took the phone back. “I’ll skip ahead a little. This is them together at his law school graduation.”

“He’s a lawyer?”

“Nah, he’s in policy. In a lot of ways, S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn’t be what it without his help from within the government.”

She handed the device back. 

He was supposed to be looking at Grant, but his gaze found Peggy again.

She was older but looked so much the same. A few crow’s feet around the eyes. Her curls were looser, wider though, but she was wearing a trench coat that reminded him of the night in the bombed-out bar. The smile on her face dazzled. Her arm was around Grant’s shoulders and Steve followed it to finally look at his son.

Elizabeth was right—there was a resemblance. He was a head taller than Peggy, so he’d inherited post-serum traits. From under his mortarboard, Steve saw blond hair and blue eyes. He had a square jaw like Steve, but smiling as broadly as his mother. He had a red lipstick kiss on his cheek. No doubt planted by Peggy moments before. Steve saw a lot of her in Grant, too. The eyes, the nose, they came from the Carter side.

“They look happy,” was all he could think to say.

“They are. He didn’t have the most conventional childhood, but I’ve never heard him say a single bad thing about her. Even though she’d be gone for long periods of time. Thick as thieves, she says.”

She swiped her finger across the screen and the picture changed. 

Now it was Peggy, Grant, and Elizabeth standing together on a boardwalk with a rocky beach in the background. There was another woman too. She looked a little like Ingrid Bergman to Steve, but more dependable somehow. 

Elizabeth was probably in her early teens, all awkward arms and legs. Peggy and Grant were noticeably older. Peggy’s hair was streaked with grey and Grant’s blond hair was thinning around his temps. They were all beaming at the camera. 

“In Brighton,” Elizabeth explained. “It was the first time we were all in England together. I wish Gran didn’t love that picture so much. I look so uncomfortable.”

She swiped again. The next image was a close up of only Elizabeth and Peggy. They had their arms around each other. Elizabeth was in a fitted, blue jacket with S.H.I.E.L.D. emblem on the shoulder and Peggy wore a red blazer. Elizabeth had a red lipstick kiss on her cheek just like Grant had had in his graduation picture. This couldn’t be more than a few years ago. Peggy looked, well, like an old woman. Her hair was entirely grey and her face was etched with aging. 

“That was at my graduations from the S.H.I.E.L.D. academy,” said Elizabeth. “I wish I had more, but those were the best one’s Gran had on hand. I’ll get you more. I promise.”

Steve felt numb at the sight. He’d missed so much.

He gave her back the phone. 

“I think you sort of look like her,” he said after a long pause. “Your,” he swallowed and braved the word, “grandmother.”

Elizabeth lit up. It was clear she worshiped Peggy. “Do you think so?”

“Yeah, especially in the eyes. She and your dad both must be very proud of you.”

“Gran is, yeah, but Dad begrudgingly. He never wanted me to be an agent. He’s still mad at her for encouraging me. She never listened, of course."

"That sounds like Peggy."

"She always says he is stubborn as his father."

"That sounds like her too. We shared the title of most stubborn, but she won't admit it."

"I think I inherited some of that too. Which is why I’m an agent. Someone told me not to. I always got where he was coming from. He understood what it could cost, I guess. I just couldn’t listen.”

“God, you are mine and Peggy’s granddaughter, aren’t you? You sound just like us. That was the first thing we had in common. The whole world wanted us to stay home, and we both knew we had to help.”

Elizabeth’s eyes went wide. “You know? She talked about you once. She said pretty much the same thing. I applied to the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy without telling anyone. I knew how my parents felt about it and I didn’t want any help from the Carter name getting in. In hindsight, they must have known, but it’s not like Gran made phone calls for me. Anyway, Dad went ballistic when I got in, so I went running to Gran. She told me I wasn’t the first to follow their own path to do what they thought was right. She told me about a soldier she had known who also hadn’t listened. I thought she was talking about herself, but now I think it was about you.”

“She had to work just as hard as me,” Steve said.

“Yeah, but she talked about sacrifices. So, I think that was you.”

Steve said nothing. He had always liked the way Peggy put a spin on things. He was the idiot who had sent a plane crashing into the ocean and she was making it into something noble. 

“She has this strong moral compass,” Elizabeth said after a pause. “She passed that onto my dad and me, and all the agents she trained. She always says she learned that in the war from the men she served with. Again, I think she meant one captain in particular.”

Steve reached over and dug through the bedside table. His hand closed around cool metal and he pulled out his compass. They had found it in the ice, rusted and the photo warped. Director Fury gave it back to him. Maybe hoping it would make Steve trust them. He opened it without looking at the picture and passed it to Elizabeth.

She smiled again and really did look just like her grandmother.

“It’s funny you said compass,” Steve said. “That was—that was always Peggy for me.”

“Then it was a joint effort—just like parenting should be. You might not have been here, but you still shaped us.”

His eyes went misty, and he sniffled while she pretended not to notice.

“I’m glad you came to see me,” he said.

She grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Me too, Gramps.”

He groaned, and she laughed.


End file.
